Well that wasn't very fucking funny, was it?

Sorry, last night I used my blog as my therapist - sometimes at 1am when you just can't sleep you have to do that sort of thing.
(Or you have to wake up your husband. Mine, while being a VERY compassionate and supportive man, frankly could give a shit less what issues are keeping me awake at 1am. Because you know what's keeping him awake at 1am? Me.)

So last night I took what amounts to a gigantic emotional dump right here in paradise.

I feel much better now. Lighter. I may have even gone down a pants size..

So now I can maybe get back to bitching about other stuff. Like derby, because Ro hasn't gotten any derby news in a while and the poor woman keeps coming here probably hoping in vain that I'll stop talking about my fucking dog and my touchy feely I'm so sad boo hoo bullshit. Canadians are very patient that way.

But here's the thing about derby. I haven't been to practice in forever. I have had to work almost every single practice, and then, when I didn't have work I actually wanted to spend a minute doing something with, oh I don't know, food. Coffee. Booze.

Exercise has not been high on the agenda. Partly because I am so exhausted, partly because exercise has NEVER been high on my agenda. But the end result is I have been off-skates for weeks and I am racked with guilt and probably wouldn't be whining about my parent's divorce TEN YEARS AGO GET OVER IT ALREADY YOU PUSSY if I was getting some exercise and maybe getting out some frustration along the way.

The thing about derby is, you really can get it all out on the track. Your team mates can pull you out of a funk with their hot pants and a new set of socks, or maybe if you're really lucky Sugarpop will wear her leotard to practice - which always seems to make me smile but then I have to call her Jane Fonda all day, so she might stop wearing it. If all else fails, they can throw you face first on the concrete so that you know what REAL problems are and quit your bitching about all of the little shit. Hard to be sad about that parking ticket or the long line at the bank or being 5 minutes late to work, when you just aren't sure when you are going to be able to take a deep breath again because you may or may not have cracked a rib by accident, or whether your shoulder is broken, dislocated, or perhaps the rotator cuff is torn? Hm, it's hard to know and then WOW you totally forgot about whatever the hell you have been whining about all day !

It's like getting rid of the hiccups. The more you think about it, the worse they get. But as soon as you get distracted enough, they disappear.

Hiccups make me fucking nuts. I hope I don't get the.........oh never mind.